


whichever road i take (they all turn into you)

by hugme



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, Hand & Finger Kink, M/M, Mutual Pining, Post-Canon, it's rated g calm down, more like appreciation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:34:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22821865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hugme/pseuds/hugme
Summary: The boundaries between them have been fuzzy from the start. Maybe friends, a little foes, but also something in between, and something beyond that scale completely.—in which galo and lio have found themselves at somewhat of a crossroads.
Relationships: Lio Fotia/Galo Thymos
Comments: 5
Kudos: 144





	whichever road i take (they all turn into you)

**Author's Note:**

> oof haven’t written in a while . but i guess anything for promare

The boundaries between them have been fuzzy from the start. Maybe friends, a little foes, but also something in between, and something beyond that scale completely.

Though in all honesty, Galo's pretty content with not thinking about it much. He's perfectly happy with where they are now.

He learned pretty quickly that it's not so much that Lio doesn't express affection, but more so that he doesn't show it in the same ways.

Galo's never been the best at reading the room or reading people, but it doesn't matter. He can read all he needs to in Lio's hands.

(He’s got nice hands.) 

(Though that’s beside the point.) 

It's not that Lio's a touchy or hands-on person. No, that's Galo's job.

But it's the fact that he's not the tactile type that makes it all the more meaningful and worthwhile when he can coax a touch out of him. A pat on the head, a hand on his shoulder, on his back, on his waist – Galo will take anything he can get.

And there's more than that.

Even without the help of Promare, there's _magic_ residing in Lio's hands, and Galo is mesmerized. They're deft and nimble, they make Galo the cutest trinkets and the best pizza, and they're _strong_. Strong and slender and beautiful, and as long as we're being honest, sometimes they make Galo blush just thinking about them.

(It's nothing dirty. He just wants to hold them a little.)

(And if Lio wants to snap Galo in half with those pretty, pretty fingers – maybe he'd be a little into that.)

Boundaries.

Right.

Maybe they've settled in a weirder place than Galo initially thought.

But on the surface, at the very least, they're friends. That, he knows.

So if they're just lounging on the couch at home after work, like any other night –like friends do – and Lio happens to bring up the fact that Galo's been working overtime lately, that he's noticed Galo's seems a little overworked lately – like friends do – and offers to give him a neck massage with those magic, magic hands of his...

How could he refuse?

What are friends for, right?

* * *

"What are friends for?" Lio mutters, under his breath, for the second time. Maybe he's reassuring Galo, or maybe he's reassuring himself.

Honestly, he'll tell himself whatever will let him get his hands on him quicker.

Normally, people in mostly platonic relationships are fine with being clingy with each other. Normal friends are allowed to do that, aren't they?

Except Lio's not normal.

He doesn't think Galo's as normal as he thinks he is.

And what's between them, that crossroads they've met at that's a little more friends than foes, but less friends than they are lovers, Lio's known for a long time that that's not normal either.

He's never touched anyone like he has Galo. Full of intention, and care, and longing – it's the only way he knows how to communicate these feelings he's too embarrassed to speak, and that he almost hopes Galo's too dense to appreciate.

He's gotta give the boy credit when it's due, though – Galo isn't that dumb. He knows he shouldn't be getting this flustered every time they come into contact that's a little too heated (sometimes Galo's convinced the Promare's not left Lio completely, because there has to be something there causing that spark, but then he realizes, no, they're both just _desperate_ ), yet neither of them know when, how, or even whether they should act on it.

But until they figure it out, Lio's going to keep being a little more and more greedy each time.

Right now, he's got Galo sitting on the ground between his legs, back to the couch, and maybe it's something about their position, maybe it's the fact that he's missed their movie nights because Galo's been so busy, maybe it's that he missed _him_ , or maybe it's because he had a little too much liquid courage tonight, but Lio's decided this is the night that he's going to take this as far as he's going to let him.

He's kneading at a certain kink around the bottom of his neck where Galo's especially stiff today, and being slow and indulgent about it, when something perhaps particularly exciting happens onscreen (he's not really paying attention, he's quite distracted, mind you), and Galo whips his head up to look at him, mouth open, ready to ramble.

But he freezes.

To be more accurate, they both freeze.

And to be perfectly accurate, it's the moment they both come to a collective realization of how fucked they are.

It's a little overwhelming, the way Lio's heart is soaring a little too high and beating a little too fast, and the way his gut is sinking and swooping all at the same time, his thoughts racing a mile a minute, but it's a feeling he's familiar with. It's a type of adrenaline he's felt before, and he's suddenly nostalgic.

Reminded of that time in the Lio de Galon when he had Galo beneath him just like this, tired, exhausted, but absolutely perfect. He was looking up at him, chin up and upside down, his eyes glittering with anticipation and excitement and absolute trust for this man he's known but a few days.

Lio thinks, with a surge of unbridled affection, _how was I ever supposed to stand a chance?_

And as if in response, comes his next, most intelligent thought.

_Fuck it_. 

* * *

Galo's never been the best at reading the room, but he sure knows something's up. He's 90% sure it's good and he likes it, but he also 100% doesn't know what he's doing, so he decides what he had to say to Lio wasn't really that important after all, tucks his head back down, and telepathically wills him to keep going. Move past the charged moment he's not completely sure just happened.

But that's not exactly what Lio does. 

Those nice, slender hands on each side, still gripping the junction where his neck and shoulder meet, slowly move up, fingers ghosting his throat (where Lio, to his wicked satisfaction, can feel Galo take a tiny gulp), and thumbs gliding along the nape of his neck. Galo suppresses a shiver.

The hands, slow but purposeful, come forward to reach his jaw. Fingers coming together, they continue to trail forward, leaving fire in their wake (Galo tenses up, and he knows his face is flushed red, he _burns_ ), and they settle under his chin. There's no pause, no hesitation, as Lio lightly nudges, gently tilting Galo's head up to look at him once more.

Galo's going to _die_ , his heart's so high up in his throat it's about to climb out of his mouth.

He knows nothing but the pounding in his chest and the depth of Lio's eyes, and for once in his life, he's speechless; but Lio's hands and eyes and mouth and every part of him are taking a page from Galo's book – they're _sure_ , straightforward in their goal, and stable, betraying none of the nervousness he feels.

Still never missing a beat, he leans in wordlessly, and soft, certain, presses a kiss to Galo's forehead.

Galo doesn't know whether to melt or rage.

Before he can stop himself (before he's processed anything, really), he spins around in Lio's arms and, fingers gripping Lio's thighs, hauls himself up onto his knees so they're face-to-face.

"That's _it_?" He blurts.

He's suddenly embarrassed, the image of two years ago invading his mind, the near-apocalypse a mere backdrop to the clumsy desperation of a man thinking of nothing but saving the life of the first person he's met that he would ever consider calling a partner – someone he'd known but a few days at the time, but already couldn't imagine a life without.

He's really in no position to complain himself.

Could either of those even be considered a kiss?

Galo has only a split second to ponder whether, then, the one Lio just gave him would technically be their first or their second, because Lio, always one to rise up to the challenge, has already leaned in, moved onto the next step. His lips are on his, and this time, Galo knows for sure it's a kiss – insistent, starved, and long overdue.

And once again, all manner of thought flies out of Galo's head.

_Does it really matter_ , Lio will say to him later, _which one was first or second or third?_ He'll grin cheekily, and pull Galo in with those elegant hands of his – the cursed hands of someone who knows what he wants and knows what he's doing – and say something cheesy Galo will make fun of him for later. _All that matters is I'll give you countless other ones_. _As many as you want._

**Author's Note:**

> mmmmsorry it wasnt much of an ending im very !! out of practice 
> 
> twitter @ smolaed come watch me spiral once in a while


End file.
